


Most Unexpected of All

by holtzbabe



Series: What Erin Expected [3]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Erin and Holtz are marriage goals, Established Relationship, Everyone's fave dad!Holtz, F/F, Guess what friends? It's the third part that nobody asked for!, Trigger warnings: Homophobia and (brief) blood, married!holtzbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:08:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8034352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtzbabe/pseuds/holtzbabe
Summary: "It’s amazing, isn’t it? How many things had to happen in order for us to meet? The universe really wanted us together. It’s kind of incredible.”
Holtz lifts her head from Erin’s chest and studies her face with a small smile. “Yeah. It really is.”
***
The third and final installment of the What Erin Expected series.





	Most Unexpected of All

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, faithful readers. If any of you follow me on Tumblr, you'll know two things: 1) I've been ploughing away at a Really Long fic for two weeks now and driving me crazy and 2) Today is my birthday.  
> I decided to post this today to get it off my plate and into the world--my birthday gift to myself. Believe me when I say I've been working tirelessly to get this fic done (amidst the hell of moving/unpacking AND a head injury). I couldn't have done it without my incredible, amazing, wonderful beta Jillian (SwabbieJilly on ao3 and lil-peanutt on Tumblr). She's known about this fic for a while, now, and has been so supportive throughout the process of writing this fic, from its conception (pregnancy pun, anyone?), to the writing itself, to the frantic edits that have been happening the past few days. Please go follow her and read her fics. Go appreciate her. She deserves it. Also, she's done several drawings of this series, including a brand new one for this fic. Go check them out!  
> With that, dear reader, I'll let you get to it. You have a 16,000 word journey that awaits you. 30,000 words, if you choose to reread the first two parts. Oh, and if you haven't read those, they're mandatory before reading this one.  
> May it bring you even a tenth of the intense emotions and enjoyment that I experienced while writing it.  
> Love you guys <3

From the time she was a small girl, Erin Gilbert always equated marriage with hard work and compromise. She watched her parents work tirelessly for years and years to keep their marriage together (always citing that those who opted for divorce instead were lazy), so Erin grew up with an understanding that marriage was no walk in the park, and any good marriage required dedication and effort.

She never expected that marriage could be like this.

Being married to Holtz is the easiest thing she’s ever done. It’s like breathing—no, it’s easier than breathing. They’ve been married for just about two years now, and it’s as effortless as ever.

Sometimes she wonders if they’re doing something wrong, because _surely_ marriage can’t be this easy.

Holtz must have similar thoughts, because one day they’re lying in bed (Erin on her back and Holtz draped lengthwise across her stomach) and she says, “Aren’t married couples supposed to fight?”

“I think so. Why? Do you want us to fight?” Erin replies.

Holtz clambers up into a seated position, leaning on Erin’s stomach to push herself up and effectively knocking the wind out of Erin for a few seconds, and grins. “Of course not. I’m just wondering if we’re actually married. We had a wedding, right? I didn’t just dream that?”

“If you did, then I had the same dream,” Erin says.

Holtz bends down and kisses her. “Good. Just checking.” She swings a leg over so she’s straddling Erin’s torso, and begins kissing down her neck.

Erin hums. “Speaking of our wedding…our anniversary is coming up.”

“Next month. How could I forget?” Holtz’s breath is warm on Erin’s neck.

“What if we did something?”

Holtz continues working her way down Erin’s upper body, and presses her lips to her collarbone. “Something like what?”

“A trip, maybe? Just the two of us? I know it’s pretty last minute to book flights, so it’ll be expensive, but—”

“A trip sounds perfect.” Holtz runs her hands down Erin’s sides and kisses the smooth expanse of skin across her chest.

“Where would you like to go? I was thinking maybe some place—”

“Erin, honey, I love you, but would you please shut up and let me seduce you?”

“Oh. Yeah, alri—”

She doesn’t get to finish the word before Holtz’ mouth is on hers, and the conversation is thrown out the window for the rest of the night.

***

They decide on an all-inclusive resort in Mexico, because Erin just wants to curl up in the sun with a book, and Holtz loves the idea of unlimited food and drinks. They book the trip the next day, after double checking that Abby and Patty can take Julia (and that the city won’t fall to ruin with half the team missing).

The rest of the month flies by in a whirlwind of ghost calls and checklists (Erin has checklists stuck up everywhere around the townhouse, with titles from ‘Outfits to pack’ to ‘Instructions for Abby and Patty’ to ‘Things Holtz isn’t allowed to bring’). Soon it’s the morning of their departure, and they’re about to leave the firehouse to head to the airport.

“You’re going to be good for Auntie Abby and Auntie Patty, right?” Erin says. She’s kneeling in front of Julia and straightening the three-year-old’s overalls.

Julia nods solemnly, her eyes wide.

Erin scoops her into her arms and stands, hugging her tightly. “I love you. I’ll see you in a week, okay?”

Holtz reaches her arms out and Erin lets Julia clamber into them. “Bye, kiddo. Don’t be afraid to wreak a little havoc on your aunties, as long as you don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Holtzmann, that’s not funny,” Abby says.

“Sure it is.” Holtz smirks and kisses Julia’s forehead, then sets her down and gently nudges her in the direction of Abby and Patty. She runs over and wraps her arms around Patty’s leg. Holtz grabs Erin’s hand and laces their fingers together. “Ready to go, love?”

“Yeah. Bye, sweetie! See you soon!” Erin waves.

“Say bye-bye, Julia,” Abby says.

“Bye-bye Mommy! Bye-bye Hozey!” Julia waves.

Holtz beams at the nickname, like she always does.  One day, Julia was playing with Patty, and she heard her say “Holtzy,” and that was all she wrote. Julia picks up the most words from Patty out of any of them.  They all have several reasons for why this could be. The most popular theory is that Patty’s the loudest, therefore the most notable. Patty says it’s because Julia likes her the best. Whatever the reason, Julia is constantly mimicking her.

So, now they’re Mommy and Hozey, and Holtz _loves_ it. She loves having such a weird title. Even Erin admits that it’s kind of perfect.

They head out (Holtz has to drag Erin out the door, and even then she’s shouting last minute reminders at Abby and Patty) and catch a cab to the airport. Everything goes smoothly at the airport (Erin makes a point of saying that it’s because of her lists) and soon they’re seated side-by-side on a cramped charter plane.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” Holtz says, her head resting on Erin’s shoulder.

Erin finds her hand and squeezes. “Me too.”

***

The resort is beautiful. They’ve been there for three days, and Erin has gone through five books, and Holtz has a running competition with herself to stack the most food on one plate in a single trip without it falling over. There’s only been one accident so far.

On the morning of their anniversary, Erin wakes up to a forehead kiss and then the weight of a towel swan being balanced on her face (there have been towels elaborately folded into animals on their beds every day so far, much to Holtz’ delight).

“Morning,” Erin says sleepily without opening her eyes.

The towel disappears. She opens her eyes, and Holtz’ face is hovering above her, hair wild, eyes wilder.

“Happy anniversary!” Holtz whisper-shouts. She peppers Erin’s face with kisses.

“You’re getting slobber on me,” Erin complains, but she reaches up and pulls Holtz’ face down for a proper kiss.

“I don’t care. We’ve been married _two years_ and I’m allowed to slobber on you.”

“I don’t remember signing on for that.”

“It was in the fine print.”

Holtz curls up and snuggles into Erin’s side. Erin hooks one arm around her and pulls her closer. “Happy anniversary,” she says softly.

“I love you,” Holtz replies.

“I love you more.”

“Nuh uh,” Holtz says childishly.

“Yuh huh.”

“We’ll agree to disagree.”

Erin rolls onto her side so she’s facing Holtz and pulls her into her chest, wrapping both arms tightly around her wife’s back. “I was thinking…”

“About me, I hope.”

“Always. But I was thinking…about fate, and things.”

“Fate and things?” Erin can hear the smile in Holtz’ voice.

“Yeah. You said, a few years ago, that we were meant to be together, regardless of Julia, and—”

“I stand by that statement.”

“Stop interrupting me, Holtz. Anyway, I was thinking about that, and I started thinking about how many things had to coincide for us to meet. The universe came together in exactly the right ways. If Abby had never put the book up…if Ed hadn’t brought it to my attention that day…if we hadn’t seen the ghost and I hadn’t been fired...it goes on and on. What if I never wrote the book with Abby at all? What if I had never met Abby? I mean, my life would’ve turned out differently for a lot of reasons, but if I never met Abby then I never would’ve met you. I guess if I hadn’t turned my back on her then I wouldn’t have met you either…although maybe you would’ve still found her, and we would’ve met sooner…”

“You know I don’t like the what-if game, Er.”

“I know. But I’m not doing it out of anxiety this time…just out of sheer wonder. It’s amazing, isn’t it? How many things had to happen in order for us to meet?”

“I needed to meet Abby, too,” Holtz muses, “and there were so many decisions I made in my life that lead me there. A lot of dumb decisions, in hindsight, but if they lead me to you, then who am I to call them dumb?”

“See what I mean? The universe really wanted us together. It’s kind of incredible.”

Holtz lifts her head from Erin’s chest and studies her face with a small smile. “Yeah. It really is.”

***

The vacation is over too quickly, but both of them are also eager to get home. When they get to the arrivals area, the first thing they see is Julia on top of Patty’s shoulders. Patty points them out, and Julia starts waving madly. When they get a little closer, they see the handmade sign that Abby’s holding up that reads, simply: NERDS.

Holtz all but sprints through the crowd, tugging Erin behind her. Patty pulls Julia down from her shoulders and the little girl runs to meet them. Holtz picks her up and swings her around, then the two of them smother her with kisses.

“I missed you so much,” Erin says. She smooths down Julia’s hair and side-eyes the ensemble she’s wearing. Are those new clothes? She whips her head around. “Abby—”

Abby throws her hands up as she approaches. “I know you said no shopping, but I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re impossible.” Erin pulls her into a hug.

“Did the city survive without us?” Holtz asks. She passes off Julia to Erin and hugs Patty and Abby in turn.

“Barely,” Abby says. She starts detailing all the busts that they missed and soon her and Holtz are engaged in a conversation about a malfunction with the proton glove.

Patty throws her arm around Erin’s shoulders. “We missed you. It was a long week.”

“Did everything go okay? Did she behave for you?”

Patty laughs. “She was an angel, as usual. Well, mostly. There was a small incident.”

“What kind of incident?” Erin inspects Julia, to see if there’s any evidence of harm.

Abby breaks out of her conversation to answer. “She made a break for upstairs when we weren’t looking, and she may or may not have let a ghost out of a trap in the two minutes that passed before we noticed she was gone.”

“WHAT?” Erin roars, at the exact same time that Holtz says, “Atta girl!”

“It was kinda mayhem,” Patty says, “but lucky for her, it was only a class two. We got it contained again in no time.”

“Was she okay? Julia, sweetie, are you okay?” Erin hugs her closer.

“She loved it,” Abby cuts in. “She was just standing there laughing when we got upstairs. Right, Jules? You liked the ghost.”

“Funny ghost!” She smiles a toothy grin.

“See?”

Erin’s heart is still racing. “How did you not notice she was missing for _two minutes_?”

Holtz wraps her arm around Erin’s waist. “Let’s not think about it too much. Nobody died. I’d consider our first trip away a success.”

Erin shoots her a long look.

“Why don’t we head back to HQ and order some pizza? Y’all must be starving,” Patty says brightly. “Our treat!”

***

Sometimes Erin thinks it’s funny that she used to have so much anxiety about her and Holtz’ relationship. She had to see a therapist every week, for crying out loud. She hasn’t seen Dr. McKinnon since the wedding. She’s a little ashamed that it took getting married to ease her fears, but she’s mostly just happy that she doesn’t have to live in a state of perpetual worry any more.

Well, she still lives in a state of perpetual worry. But she doesn’t stress about her and Holtz any more.

Now, she worries about Julia. She worries about the parenting choices she’s making. She worries that she’s going to mess something up. She worries that she’s going to mess _Julia_ up.

One night she’s sitting on the floor in their room, sobbing, because she got frustrated earlier and yelled at Julia without meaning to. Holtz slips into the room and sinks to the floor beside her. She rubs her back and leans her head on Erin’s shoulder.

“Please don’t beat yourself up about this, love. She’s already forgotten about it.”

“I’m a terrible mom,” Erin chokes out.

Holtz lifts her head and uses her thumb to wipe the tears off Erin’s cheeks. “No you’re not. You’re a wonderful mom.”

“I’m a terrible mom, and she’s going to grow up hating me, and she’s going to think I don’t love her, and she’s going to be all messed up for the rest of her life.”

“Listen to me, Erin.” Holtz takes her face firmly in her hands so Erin will look at her. “That’s not going to happen. You’re not going to screw her up. You’re not your parents. You will never be your parents.”

Erin closes her eyes as Holtz kisses her. How is it that she always seems to know exactly what Erin’s thinking, even when she doesn’t say it? Does marriage come with psychic powers? Or does Holtz just know her that well?

“Promise?” she asks quietly.

“I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you. Well. Sometimes I lie to you, but not about anything serious like this.”

Erin opens one eye. “What have you lied to me about?”

“Just, ya know…” Holtz waves a hand. “Unimportant stuff. ‘ _Holtz, did you put batteries in the smoke detector?’_ ” she says in a terrible impression of Erin’s voice, “‘ _Yes, dear!’”_

“Holtz! Seriously?”

“I put them in eventually. Or ‘ _Holtz, have you seen Julia’s onesie with the pink frills on it?’”_

Erin’s eyes narrow. “You said it must’ve gotten lost in the wash.”

“It had pink frills, Er. _Pink frills_. Do you know how much of a fire hazard those are? I did what I had to do.”

“Our daughter should not be anywhere near fire regardless of what she’s wearing!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Holtz smirks.

“So you’re concerned enough about safety to destroy an adorable outfit, but not enough to put batteries in the smoke detector,” Erin mutters.

“How do you know I destroyed it? I could’ve thrown it out.”

Erin shoots her a look that very plainly says _I wasn’t born yesterday, dumbass._

“Yeah.” Holtz nods. “That’s fair.”

***

Erin checks her watch for the twentieth time in five minutes. She sighs loudly and adjusts Julia’s dress. The small girl squirms in the seat beside her.

“Where Hozey?”

“Isn’t that the question of the hour,” Erin mumbles, then, louder, “She’s coming, sweetheart.”

A door opens down the hall and the sound of footsteps echoes down towards them. A woman with dark hair pulled back into a tight bun appears.

“Mrs. Gilbert-Holtzmann?” she asks.

Erin stands clumsily. “Just Gilbert, actually. Dr. Gilbert.” She steps forward to shake the woman’s hand.

“I’m sorry.” The woman smiles at Erin in a kind of strained way. “You’re a doctor? How nice.”

“Of particle physics.” Erin coughs. “Not medicine.”

“Ah,” the woman says. The word falls between them. There’s a beat. “This must be Julia!” She crouches down in front of the chair where Julia is swinging her legs. She sounds more pleasant when talking to children, Erin decides. That’s probably a good trait for a director of a daycare centre. “How old are you, Julia?”

Julia holds up three fingers. “Three,” she says proudly.

“Wonderful!” The woman smiles and stands up. “Will your husband be joining us today, Dr. Gilbert?”

“My wife is on her way. She’ll be here any moment.” Erin hopes that it’s true.

To her credit, the woman doesn’t flinch. “Of course.”

At that moment, with impeccable timing, as always, Holtz bursts through the door. She’s dishevelled and panting and wearing a Ghostbusters jumpsuit. Erin can tell by the way that it hangs off her frame that it’s not Holtz’ suit, but Erin’s. Erin tries to not let her pleasant expression slip. She _told_ Holtz to dress nicely. They need to make a good impression in this interview.

“Jillian Holtzmann,” Holtz says smoothly, striding over and shaking the woman’s hand. “Sorry for being late. There was a work emergency.”

The director smiles in a contrived way again, no doubt making mental notes of all of this and adding them as strikes against their file. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Holtzmann.”

“Dr. Holtzmann is fine.” Holtz smiles.

“You too? What are you a doctor of?” the woman asks, having learnt her lesson.

Holtz grins widely: a sparkle in her eye. “Nuclear engineering.”

“That’s very impressive. Where do you two work? Are you professors?”

“We’re both Ghostbusters. Maybe you’ve heard of us,” Holtz says smugly.

“Oh!” The woman instantly becomes more animated, and the pinched look on her face disappears. “I thought you looked familiar! Wow!” For the first time, she seems to actually take in what Holtz is wearing and see it as more than a dirty jumpsuit. “So when you say you came from a work emergency, you mean an _actual_ emergency!” She chuckles nervously. “I can see why you two are looking for daycare.”

There’s a long enough pause for it to be awkward. The woman bites her lip. “I don’t think I introduced myself before. My name’s Katherine Hart. Why don’t you follow me, and we can begin the interview?”

“Okie dokie,” Holtz says. She reaches for Julia’s hand and helps her off her chair. The three of them follow Katherine down the hall.

“Is everyone okay?” Erin says as soon as she’s close enough to Holtz.

“Hmm?”

“The work emergency? Everyone okay? Did you get a ghost call?”

Holtz hums. She leans in and says low in Erin’s ear, “Kevin lit the microwave on fire. He put his spoon in with the soup, because and I quote ‘if the spoon is warm too, it won’t cool down the soup when you eat’. Annnd because of the adjustments I made to the heating element, it didn’t just light on fire…it exploded.”

“Oh. Jesus, Kev. Did anyone get injured? Also, are you aware that you’re wearing my jumpsuit?”

“Everyone’s fine. The sleeve of my suit caught on fire when I was trying to put out the microwave. It’s burnt a little beyond repair—I’m surprised my arm didn’t get burnt, actually—and I was already running late by that point, so I decided to throw on your jumpsuit so it would look like I came from a ghost emergency. Looks better than a Kevin emergency.”

Erin shakes her head. “I leave for one afternoon, and the entire lab descents into chaos.”

Holtz grins sloppily. “You’re the glue that holds us together, Gilbert. Now let’s go crush this interview.”

***

Holtz loves being married. She never thought she was the marrying type—especially back when she was in her college and grad school years. She wasn’t even interested in having serious girlfriends. She was perfectly content to see a girl once and never speak to her again. She sure as hell never thought she’d want to wake up next to the same girl every single morning for the rest of her life.

That was, of course, before she met Erin.

She loves being married…because she’s married to the best woman in the world. She loves all the little things about marriage, like having someone to talk to in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep, and having a built in buddy for decision-making, and…grocery shopping.

“ _Holtz_ , put that back!”

She whistles and feigns ignorance. “Put what back?”

“We are _not_ getting a variety-pack box of chips! You do not need 32 bags of chips. Unless you’re planning on giving them out to the trick-or-treaters instead of eating them all yourself…but you always say that—”

“Halloween is for candy.” Holtz nods, then pouts. “Please, babe? I neeeeed it.”

“You’re worse than Julia, and she’s _three-and-a-half_. No, Holtz.”

“Come onnnnn. Why do you hate me?” Holtz sticks her bottom lip out comically far and does her best puppy-dog eyes.

“That’s not going to work on me.” Erin grabs the box from the cart and puts it back on the shelf.

“What if I promise to do that thing you love in bed tonight?” Holtz waggles her eyebrows and then winks.

Erin tries to keep a stern look on her face, but the corners of her mouth twitch up like she’s trying not to laugh. “You’re going to do it regardless, so no.”

Holtz throws her arms around Erin’s neck and kisses the corner of her mouth. “Yeah. You got me there.”

Erin hums. “You can pick out two regular-sized bags of chips.”

“You’re the best wife ever.” Holtz stands on her tiptoes to kiss the top of Erin’s head.

“I know.”

Holtz takes off running with the cart and jumps on the back, riding it down the aisle.

“Holtz! No!”

“Holtz, yes!” she shouts with glee over her shoulder.

***

Holtz is in the shower when Erin gets the phone call. She picks up her phone from the kitchen counter and glances at the caller ID. It’s her parents’ number. She stares at the screen, watching as it rings. Her thumb hovers over the decline button. She knows she should ignore the call. It’s been two-and-a-half years. Two-and-a-half years since her blow-up fight with her mother about her engagement. Two-and-a-half years since Holtz told her to stop hurting their family and hung up the phone. Erin doesn’t want to hear anything that her mother has to say. Two-and-a-half years is a long time to go by without an apology. It’s too late.

She presses accept anyway.

“Hello?”

It’s her father’s voice that comes through the speaker, not her mother’s. She doesn’t know that she’s ever spoken to her father on the phone. She’s so distracted that she doesn’t take in his words at first. Then her brain catches up and processes what he just said.

Time comes to a standstill.

She’s frozen, one hand on the kitchen counter, one hand holding the phone to her ear. She’s aware of life going on around her. She can hear water running upstairs. The distinct sound of a shampoo bottle being knocked over. Faintly, the sound of Holtz singing. The shower shuts off.

Julia’s tugging on her skirt. “Mommy?”

Her voice sounds muffled, like there’s a sheet of glass separating them.

_‘Mommy?’_ Suddenly Erin is eight years old again, curled up in her bed, helplessly calling out for her mother and knowing she won’t come. She called every night. Her mother never came.

Her mother is never going to come.

_No_.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

_No_.

Her mother was supposed to finally come around.

_No._

Meet her only grandchild.

_No._

Meet her daughter-in-law.

_No, no, no, no, no._

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

_‘Erin?’_

“Mom?”

Warm hands around her. Comforting her. This is new. She opens her eyes. Squints. This is not her childhood bedroom.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

It’s Holtz. Voice anxious, hands patting and rubbing and touching every inch of Erin, trying to calm her. She’s shaking. She lets herself fold into Holtz. She’s not crying, but she feels like her body is going through the motions. She doesn’t say anything. She can hear her name being called, very faintly.

She pulls away and looks down at the phone in her hand. She lifts it to her ear again. “Dad?”

“Erin?”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“It’s okay.” His voice is gruff. He breaths in and out a few times, loudly. “There’s going to be a service. On Thursday. Will you come?” He sounds very formal. He’s never been a good conversationalist. They’ve also never been that close.

Erin looks at Holtz, who’s staring at her with concern, even more so now that she knows she’s talking to her father. Her hair hangs in wet waves around her face. Without breaking eye contact, Erin takes a deep breath. “I’m bringing my wife and my daughter. If you have a problem with that, then I’m not going to come.”

There’s a very long pause. She nearly hangs up the phone. Then, finally: “Bring them.”

***

The plane ride to Michigan is quiet. Erin hasn’t been saying much for the past few days. Holtz watches her out of the corner of her eye while she passes crayons to Julia.

“Hozey, look at the kitty,” Julia says. She points to the doodle-covered piece of paper on her seat tray.

Holtz leans down and smiles. “He’s gorgeous. Why don’t you draw him a friend?”

Julia considers that, then nods. “Blue, please.”

Holtz hands her a blue crayon. Then she steals another glance at Erin. She’s staring out the window, her hands folded in her lap. Holtz reaches over and takes one of them, lacing their fingers together, and squeezes.

“Are you with me, love?” she asks, in lieu of an ‘are you okay?’

She knows Erin isn’t okay. Her mother just had an unexpected stroke and died. Fallout or no, that still hurts. In fact, the fallout has made it worse. If she’d had a chance to mend bridges (even the ones Holtz thinks should stay burnt) with her mom before she passed, then maybe her sudden death wouldn’t be hitting Erin this hard.

She’s been having a lot of panic attacks. She’s refusing to talk about them with Holtz, but from the sounds of them, she’s having a lot of flashbacks to her childhood. Holtz already called Erin’s old therapist, Dr. McKinnon, who said that all she can do is help ground Erin and keep her in the present. She can’t force her to talk.

Erin hasn’t responded, and she’s still staring blankly out the window. Holtz squeezes her hand again and repeats her question. This time, Erin twitches and tears her gaze away to glance at Holtz.

“Hi,” she says.

Holtz smiles gently at her. “Hey. Julia’s drawing cats. Want to see?”

Erin nods slowly.

“Hey sweetie, why don’t you show Mommy your kitties?”

“Not done yet,” the little girl replies, tongue poking between her lips as she concentrates.

“It’s okay. I can see them later,” Erin murmurs.

She starts to turn her head back. Holtz needs to keep her distracted. “What if we got one?” she says quickly.

Erin tilts her head. “What?”

“A real c-a-t,” Holtz clarifies, “She’d be so excited. So would I.”

Erin sighs. It’s not one of her usual exasperated sighs, it’s a tired one. “I don’t know, Holtz. They’re a lot of work.”

“But super cute. And…they’re good for anxiety.” She tacks the last part on casually.

Erin chews on her bottom lip. “They are?”

“Yeah. There’s been all sorts of studies on it. Petting has a calming effect, and the sound of purring can reduce anxiety. Plus, taking care of another living thing can be good for mental health.”

A tiny smile plays at the corners of Erin’s mouth. “I already take care of two children.”

Holtz smiles at the smile. “You take that back.”

“Mommy, look at the kitties,” Julia interrupts. She holds up the sheet of paper with the two finished cat drawings.

“I like the blue one,” Erin says.

“Her name is Cup,” Julia announces proudly.

“That’s a fantastic name,” Holtz says. She ruffles Julia’s hair.

Julia goes back to drawing. Erin watches her for a minute, and Holtz watches Erin.

She’s all but forgotten their half-finished conversation, until Erin says, quietly, “I’ll consider it.”

***

Holtz pulls their rental car into the parking lot of the church. Across the lot, Erin spots one of her cousins, and her throat clenches up a little further. Holtz cuts the engine and climbs out of the car to take Julia out of her car seat. Erin unbuckles her seatbelt but doesn’t move. She can feel yet another panic attack coming on. She’s about two seconds away from losing it when her door opens, causing her to jump. Holtz is standing there, a timid smile on her face, Julia by her side. She reaches out and takes Erin’s hand.

“Come on, love. You can do this. I’m here.”

Erin nods, takes a deep breath, and steps out of the car into the biting February air. She positions herself so she’s holding Holtz’ hand on one side, Julia’s on the other, because she likes being surrounded by them. They walk towards the door, and Erin tries really hard to ignore the stares. And the whispers.

“Crazy little Erin Gilbert is back in town,” Erin mutters sarcastically to herself, “and did you hear that she’s a _lesbian_ now? How positively scandalous.”

“What was that?” Holtz asks.

“Nothing,” Erin says quickly.

Her nosy Aunt Eleanor tries to flag her down but Erin keeps walking. The sea of black parts for them, giving them a wide birth. Erin is a little self-conscious of the fact that she isn’t wearing black. Yet another thing for people to judge her about. She’s wearing a dark navy dress—the same dress she was wearing when Holtz proposed to her, and she hates that one of the best moments of her life is being mixed with this hell—because it was the darkest thing in her wardrobe and she didn’t have time to go shopping. Holtz is wearing a dark suit—not black either, but dark charcoal grey—and Erin suspects that she made an effort to look put together not out of consideration for Erin’s father, but because she respects that a funeral isn’t the time or place for a wacky outfit. Julia’s wearing a blue dress, and she’s more colourful than anyone else here. Erin doesn’t care.

They reach the front door of the church and step inside. Erin’s eyes immediately dart to the front of the room—closed casket. She breathes a sigh of relief. Then she locks eyes with her father, who is talking to a woman that Erin doesn’t recognize. He excuses himself from the conversation and starts walking towards them. Erin’s feet carry her forwards until they meet in the middle of the church.

“Erin,” he says stiffly, “you came.”

She nods. Neither of them make a move to embrace. Holtz squeezes her hand a little tighter, and Erin tries to focus on her presence. She studies her father. Has he always looked that old? His hair is thinning, and there are deep lines on his face. Has he just aged that much since she saw him last? Or has the death of his wife aged him in a span of a few days? Even his suit looks tired.

His eyes dart down to Julia, and his firm expression softens a little as he takes her in. He glances back up at Erin. “Wow. She, uh…she looks just like you.”

Erin looks down at Julia: her auburn hair styled into pigtails courtesy of Holtz, feathery bangs cutting straight across her forehead, wide blue eyes. “I know,” Erin says softly.

He clears his throat. “What’s your name?” he asks Julia, a little hesitantly.

Julia stares up at him warily. She can clearly tell how on-edge Erin and Holtz are. She’s already turning into a very perceptive child. “Julia,” she says finally.

The corner of his mouth twitches, like it tried to smile but decided against it. “That’s a nice name.” He looks back up at Erin. “How old is she now?”

Erin chews on her inner lip. “She’ll be four this May.”

His face falters a little, like he wasn’t aware of how much time has passed since she told her parents she was pregnant and they subsequently disowned her. “Oh,” he says quietly. Then, he finally drags his gaze over to Holtz.

Erin watches him appraise her: taking her in from her nicest pair of boots to her hair, pinned into a slightly more composed version of her usual updo.

“And you must be…” he trails off, his jaw tight.

“Jillian Holtzmann. Erin’s wife, and your daughter-in-law.” Holtz extends one gloved hand. Erin can’t help but note the hardness in her voice. Holtz is famous for her ability to defuse tension and she can make an entire room feel at ease, so the fact that she sounds so unfriendly is a conscious choice on her part. Erin feels a little flood of warmth at the thought that her wife—who hates the idea of anyone disliking her—would willingly give a bad first impression instead of feigning pleasantries with a man who hurt Erin so deeply.

A beat, and then he reaches out and shakes Holtz’ hand awkwardly. There’s a stretch of uncomfortable silence. He opens and closes his mouth a few times like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what, or maybe he does know what he needs to say but can’t work up the nerve.

“We should go sit down,” Erin says after a sufficiently long time watching him. She starts to step away, but he throws his hand up.

“Wait, Erin. I need to say something,” he says.

She waits.

He takes a deep breath. “I may not approve, or even understand, frankly, the life that you’ve chosen for yourself. Your… _family_ …your _job_ …” Each word is slow and pained.

Holtz tenses like she’s raring to say something or hit him or both. Erin squeezes her hand, hoping to communicate that it’s okay. She needs to hear the rest.

“But,” he continues, and his voice breaks, “I…I want to be in your life, Erin. And my…granddaughter’s life. If you’ll let me. I’ve already lost your mother…I don’t want…I can’t lose you, too.” There are tears in his eyes. Erin has never seen her dad cry.

Despite it all, she feels a lump forming in her throat. “I don’t want to lose you either, Dad.”

She lets go of Holtz’ and Julia’s hands and she closes the distance between them, embracing him tightly for the first time since she was a child.

It’s not a perfect reconciliation. But it’s something.

***

“Babe, come sit down. You’re making _me_ anxious.”

Erin looks up from the Tupperware drawer that she’s organizing. “Everything has to be perfect.”

“I get that, love, but your dad’s not gonna care if our Tupperware is arranged by brand. He probably won’t even _see_ the Tupperware drawer. It’s Christmas, not National Tupperware Day.”

“He might see it,” Erin mutters.

Holtz gets up from the couch and comes to wrap her arms around Erin’s waist. “Take some deep breaths. Everything looks great. Come sit down; he’s going to be here any minute.”

Erin hesitates for a second, then shuts the drawer. She spins in Holtz’ arms and rests her head on Holtz’ shoulder. They stand like that for a second, then Erin untangles herself and heads to the living room. She flops down onto the couch and smooths down her blouse. Holtz does a tuck-and-roll over the back of the couch and lands on her stomach in Erin’s lap.

“Was that necessary?”

“Always.”

The cat decides that the couch is the place to be, and leaps up to walk along Holtz’ back. Julia comes out from behind her play kitchen centre in the corner and climbs up beside Erin with a giggle.

“Is it family couch time?” Erin asks with a slight sigh, and then brings her hand to gently push the cat away. “No, Essie, I can’t have cat hair on my shirt today. We can snuggle later.”

They brought the cat home less than a month after the funeral. She’s a beautiful four-year-old muted tortoiseshell who took a liking to them as soon as they stopped in front of her cage in the shelter. They made the mistake of letting Julia name her, and she inexplicably chose the name Sour Cream—a name that gets even worse if you try to shorten it to a nickname. It was Holtz who first abbreviated it to S.C., which sounds like Essie if you say it fast enough, and it stuck. Julia still calls her Sour Cream sometimes, but they’re confident she’ll grow out of it when she gets a little older.

Family couch time is interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Holtz pulls herself up off Erin’s lap and Essie jumps to the floor. Erin stays frozen on the couch for a second, then takes a deep breath and rises.

They open the door to reveal Erin’s father standing on the front steps: a small suitcase beside him and an uneasy look on his face. Immediately, Erin regrets every single life choice that lead her to this moment.

In the past ten months since her mother’s death, her relationship with her father has been slowly mending. She talks to him every other week on the phone—mostly about safe topics, like the weather or the weird things her relatives have been doing, very occasionally Julia but only when he askes, and tactfully keeping their conversations far away from Holtz and the Ghostbusters—and things have been going well. Or at least, they had been.

Then she did something impulsive and stupid. It was late October, and she was asking him about his Thanksgiving plans (a conversation that wasn’t quite appropriate yet given how it was over a month away, but they had run out of other topics after five minutes), and she learned that he was going to be spending the holiday alone. That got her thinking about Christmas, and how this was going to be his first Christmas since his wife died. And before she knew what she was doing…she had invited him to spend Christmas with them in New York.

She hadn’t even seen him again since the funeral. She expected him to decline the offer, but he accepted, albeit with a little hesitation. His flights were booked that night—arriving the 20th, leaving the 27th. Then, the next time she spoke to him on the phone, she took it one step further and told him he was welcome to stay in their guest room instead of paying for an expensive hotel. Again, she didn’t expect him to say yes.

All month, she’s been a complete wreck. She’s thrown herself into cleaning and baking—the latter something she hasn’t done since she was a grad student. She has five types of cookies, two sheets of squares, three pies, and a questionable fruit cake to show for her stress. She’s been bringing the rejects in to work, much to the others’ delight. She’s also planning a full turkey dinner from scratch. It’s possible she’s going overboard, but she still feels like she has something to prove. This whole holiday needs to go perfectly, or she can kiss her newfound relationship with her father goodbye. Or so she thinks.

So, she reaches out to take her father’s suitcase and kisses him on the cheek. “You made it! Come on in, get out of the cold.”

He smiles weakly and steps inside. Erin watches him survey the large open-concept kitchen and living room while she takes his coat from him and he steps out of his boots. “Nice place you got here.”

“Thank you,” Holtz says. She’s leaning against the wall in true Holtz fashion, smiling in a reserved way that makes it clear she still doesn’t trust him.

He clears his throat. “It’s nice to see you again…Jillian.” He pauses for a second before saying her name, and his eyes dart to Erin to make sure he got it right. Erin hasn’t mentioned Holtz by name since the funeral.

“Likewise, Mr. Gilbert,” Holtz says with a nod.

“William’s fine,” he says quickly.

“Duly noted.” She unsticks herself from the wall. “Come on, we’ll give you the grand tour.”

Holtz doesn’t correct him on her name, Erin realizes. She wonders why.

***

“So…” William begins.

Erin tears her eyes away from Julia, playing in the snow a hundred yards away with a group of other kids, to look at her father. They decided to take Julia to Central Park, as William’s never seen it before. The past few days Erin’s been touring him around the city. She feels a little guilty that she’s not at work, but the other three say that they’ve got it under control. The holiday season is always slow, anyway. Every year Holtz cracks the same joke, daring the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come to show themselves, and every year the rest of them groan and pray that suddenly, miraculously, there will be a ghost call _just_ so they can escape from Holtz’ bad jokes.

“Yes?” Erin prompts after a bit of a pause.

“How’s married life treating you?”

For a few seconds, Erin’s too surprised to respond. “It’s good,” she replies slowly, “I’m really happy.”

“I’m…I’m glad you’re happy, Erin.” He stares straight ahead, not meeting her eyes. “Jillian. Uh. Jillian seems…really nice.” His voice is strained. It doesn’t sound like he disagrees with the statement. It just sounds like it’s hard for him to admit it.

“She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” Erin says quietly, “and I love her so much it scares me sometimes.”

“I can tell.” There’s a beat, then he turns to meet her gaze so suddenly that it startles her. He stares at her intensely and exhales, his breath crystalizing in the icy air. “I’m really sorry that I wasn’t at your wedding. You’re my daughter. I was supposed to be there for you. I wish I had been there. I’m so sorry.” His voice breaks on the last word.

Erin’s lip wavers. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s okay. I forgive you. You’re here now, and that’s more important than anything.”

He nods and swallows. They say nothing else, but turn back to watch Julia play.

Later, as they’re walking back, he says, “How does that work, then? The marriage?”

She looks at him warily. “What do you mean?”

“Did you…take her last name? Or?”

Erin laughs. That’s a better question than she was expecting. “No. I’m still Erin Gilbert. I’ve built a name for myself in the world. Holtz, too. We weren’t about to throw that away. Besides, the whole name-change thing goes back to the idea of marriage equaling ownership, and that kinda creeps both of us out…” She trails off, realizing by the look in his eyes that she’s losing him. “But yeah. We both kept our names as is. Julia has a hyphen, but mostly for legal reasons. She was Julia Gilbert on her birth certificate, but we had it changed to Gilbert-Holtzmann after the wedding.”

He considers all that. “Okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no. It’s okay that you have questions. I’m glad we can talk about it without it being weird,” Erin interrupts with a smile.

“Well, it’s still a little weird.” He smiles back, and they both laugh.

***

Holtz throws open the front door with gusto. “That better be carolers, or I’m going to be _crushed_!”

It’s Abby, standing there with a tub of vanilla ice cream in a bag in one hand, and a massive bag overflowing with wrapped presents in the other. “If you want me to sing, you’re gonna need to get several spiked eggnogs into me first.”

“Abbyyyyyy!” Holtz shouts and tackle-hugs her.

“Jesus. You’re exuberant today.” Abby steps past her into the house and pulls the door shut behind her.

“It’s _Christmas_! It’s a day of joy and festivity and merriment!”

“And she ate an entire box of candy canes in the past hour,” Erin calls from her spot in front of the stove, “Now she’s hyped up on sugar _and_ she probably spoiled her appetite for dinner.” She sets a pot down on an element with a loud passive-aggressive clang.

Abby takes in the way Erin is stalking around the kitchen and then eyes Holtz. “Dear God, woman.” She passes the bag of ice cream to her. “Take this to the kitchen and while you’re there, give your wife a hand. She looks stressed.”

Holtz raises her eyebrows and stage whispers, “You have no idea. She’s taking all the fun out of Christmas.”

“Holtz, I heard that!”

“I think you misheard. I said ‘I love and appreciate Erin so much. Isn’t it great how much effort she’s put into this dinner?’”

“That’s more like it,” Erin says.

Holtz dances her way over to the kitchen and sticks the ice cream in the freezer, bag and all, then wraps her arms tight around Erin. “Why don’t you go entertain our guests while I watch…all this?” She gestures at the pots bubbling on the stove.

Erin sighs. “Don’t let the cranberry sauce burn.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Holtz releases her and salutes.

Erin rounds the kitchen island at the same time that Abby returns from hanging her coat up down the hall. Erin hugs her. “Merry Christmas, Abs. Thanks for bringing the ice cream.”

“I would’ve brought more things if you let me,” Abby says.

“I know. Hey, Dad, you remember Abby, right?”

William looks up from the couch. He’s bent over, watching Julia play on the floor with her new toys.

“Hey, Mr. Gilbert.” Abby’s voice isn’t exactly warm. Nobody holds a grudge like Abby.

He stands and comes to shake her hand. “Abigail Yates! It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, well. _Somebody_ cut me out of her life.” Abby stares pointedly at Erin.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

The conversation is interrupted by Holtz calling Erin’s name in a long and panicked way. They all turn their heads to see a plume of smoke rising from one of the pots and Holtz standing there with a horrified look on her face.

As it turns out, she burnt the cranberry sauce.

Erin actually _cries_. They all pat her on the back, telling her that it’s okay, that nobody _needs_ cranberry sauce with their turkey anyway, and that’s when Patty gets there and takes in the situation with an amused expression as she kicks off her boots.

“Girl, are you crying over cranberry sauce? Also—Holtzy, what the fresh hell are you wearing?”

Holtz looks down at the ugly Christmas vest she’s wearing over an ugly Christmas sweater. There are several tacky LED pins stuck to the vest that are blinking out of sync with each other. “It’s festive.”

“Oh, honey.” Patty shakes her head. She comes to join them in the kitchen and they all exchange hugs and good tidings.

“You must be Patty,” William says.

“Guilty. You must be Mr. Gilbert.” She shakes his hand, then looks around the room. “And where’s my favourite niece?”

Holtz feels a little rush of pride when she realizes that Erin’s dad didn’t say that either of the others could call him William. Somehow, she thinks, that’s a good sign. “She’s _very_ captivated with her new toys. Santa did good this year. I don’t think she realized either of you came in.”

“Well now I’m just offended.” Patty pouts.

“Julia, sweetie, Auntie Patty and Auntie Abby are here! Come say hi,” Holtz calls.

The little girl pokes her head around the couch and her face lights up. She sprints over and hugs Patty, then Abby. “Merry Christmas, Auntie Patty! Merry Christmas, Auntie Abby!”

“Merry Christmas, babygirl.”

Abby ruffles her hair. “Did you get lots of cool presents from Santa?”

“Yeah!” Julia carefully grabs both of their hands and pulls them over to the tree to show them.

“Wow, that’s a lot! I hope there’s room for all the presents I brought you,” Abby says.

“One of those presents better be the keys to a storage unit,” Erin warns.

“Just let me spoil her in peace.”

Erin sighs and turns back to the mess on the stove.

Holtz rubs her hand in circles on Erin’s back. “You’re not really upset about the cranberry sauce, right? I’m sorry. In my defence, I probably shouldn’t have been trusted to watch it.”

Erin laughs. “That was my bad. No, it’s okay. I bought some from the store as backup.”

“Of course you did.”

***

“So, Jillian, Erin tells me you have your PhD?” William cuts off a piece of turkey and dips it through the pool of gravy on his plate.

“Uh huh,” Holtz says through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Erin elbows her, so she swallows before speaking again. “I’m a nuclear engineer, specializing in experimental particle physics.”

He looks surprised. “Really?”

“She’s a genius. An actual genius,” Patty interjects.

“She almost got into CERN,” Abby adds proudly.

His eyebrows shoot up. “That’s very impressive. Did they go with someone more qualified, or…?”

“There’s nobody more qualified on the planet,” Erin says. She downs the last of the wine in her glass and reaches for the bottle to refill it.

“I don’t know about that,” Holtz says. She stares up at the ceiling and taps her chin thoughtfully. “There’s nobody as _exciting_ as me. They’re missing out.”

“So what ha—”

“Lab accident,” Holtz, Abby, and Patty say simultaneously. Erin just shakes her head.

He looks back and forth between Holtz’ smug expression and Erin’s embarrassed one. “Do I want to know?”

“No,” Erin says, at the same time that Holtz says, “The guy woke up eventually.”

Patty starts laughing, then the rest of them join in, and William does too after a brief hesitation. He kind of looks like he doesn’t know whether or not she’s joking.

“Anyway, Holtz is one of the best engineers in the country. Maybe even the world. She’s brilliant,” Abby says, looking fondly across the table at Holtz, who responds with a wink and finger guns.

William clears his throat. “Well, I’m impressed. Are the rest of you as academically accomplished?”

Patty laughs. “They are. I’m not.” They all begin protesting loudly. She waves her hand. “Shush, it’s true. I have a bachelor’s degree in history, but I never saw the point of grad school when I had already secured a good job working for the MTA. These guys are some next level scholars, though.”

“Patty is just as brilliant as the rest of us,” Holtz says, and begins gnawing on a turkey leg.

“A history buff, huh? I’m a history professor at Michigan State.”

That’s all it takes. They immediately start discussing their favourite historical events, and it turns out that they have a lot of common areas of interest. William seems completely in his element and comfortable for the first time since arriving.

Holtz elbows Erin and grins: a wordless ‘you were worried for nothing!’

They continue to chat for the next half an hour, and Holtz finally gets bored of listening to them and decides to cut them off. It sounds like they could keep talking for hours.

“So, William—can I call you Bill? I’m gonna call you Bill,” Holtz says, “Wait, did your parents realize they named you Bill Gilbert? I’m so sorry. _Anyway_ , I didn’t know you were a professor. Erin never mentioned it.”

She looks pointedly at her wife, and Erin flushes. The wheels start turning in Holtz’ head. She loves when she learns information about Erin’s past and puzzle pieces start clicking. Having a parent (maybe two) invested in the world of academia would totally explain Erin’s old obsession with academic status and her quest for tenure at Columbia.

“I am. I love it; it’s very rewarding,” William says. He takes a bite of his forgotten meal. “What do your parents do?”

“Decompose, mostly,” Holtz says without missing a beat.

William starts choking. Abby reaches out and claps him on the back.

“ _Holtz_ ,” Erin hisses, “We’re eating.”

“He asked!”

William recovers. He looks down the table with a mortified expression. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Holtz shoots an easy smile his way. “They died when I was four. I barely remember them. I’m a child of the system.” Her smile widens into a grin with the last sentence. She’s fine with her childhood, she really is, because it’s true—she remembers only the teeniest glimmers of her parents. She does feel a pang go through her when she realizes that her parents died when she was younger than Julia is now, though. Her heart wrenches at the thought of her daughter being suddenly without a family. Her eyes flicker down to the other end of the table, where Julia is completely engrossed in stacking the round (and perfectly uniform, thank you Erin) slices of carrot on her plate into a little tower. She doesn’t appear to be listening to the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” William says again, “Car accident?”

Erin stiffens in her seat. She knows what’s coming next. Holtz rests her hand on Erin’s thigh under the table to reassure her. She shakes her head. “My father overdosed, then my mother killed herself a month later.”

William stares down the table with his eyes bugging out slightly. “Jillian…that’s—”

“It’s okay, really,” Holtz says sincerely, “I’m no worse for wear. I may not have any other family, but it just makes me cherish this one that much more.” She looks around the table at her chosen family with pride. She’s the luckiest woman on the planet. The universe, in all its infinite mystery, has given her the one thing she spent so many years thinking she didn’t need. And yeah, she was technically right, she never _needed_ a family to complete her—she did that herself—but God _damn_ have they ever added so much to her life. All of them. Abby and Patty, Kevin (even though he’s back in Australia for the holidays), Julia, _Erin_ …hell, even William with all his missteps. She loves all of them so much. Her family.

Erin’s hand lands on top of hers and laces their fingers together. Holtz turns her head to look at her wife, and when their eyes lock, the rest of the room disappears for a few seconds. Erin reaches out with her other hand to trace Holtz’ jaw, feather-light, and then leans in for a quick kiss—maybe forgetting that they’re in front of her dad, maybe no longer caring.

“I love you,” Erin whispers.

Holtz smiles and nestles her head onto Erin’s shoulder. The table is very silent. She can feel everyone watching them.

“So is it time for dessert yet?” Holtz says.

***

Erin wakes up in the middle of the night to Holtz jabbing her side repeatedly. She groans and rolls over to bury her face in the pillow. The jabbing continues.

“Honey, wake up. It’s important.”

That gets her attention. She lifts her head from the pillow and squints at Holtz through the darkness. She’s propped up on one elbow and staring intensely at Erin.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ever since your dad left, I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” Erin’s plenty awake now.

“It’s just…you know you can call me Jillian if you want, right?”

Erin frowns. Of all the things she was expecting, that was not one of them. “What?”

“I will allow you to call me Jillian, if that’s something you want. Only because we’re married.”

“Uh. Do you _want_ me to call you Jillian?”

“Not really, no. But you can. If you want. I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

Erin considers that. “Okay? Um. I don’t want to call you Jillian. Unless you want me to.”

“I don’t.”

“Good. You’re my Holtz. You’ll always be my Holtz.”

She can just make out Holtz’ smile in the dark. “I knew I married you for a reason.”

***

“You said you weren’t going to cry.” Holtz smirks.

Erin glares at her through her watery eyes. “And you said you weren’t going to make fun of me if I did.”

They watch Julia pause at the door, turn around, and wave at them with a huge smile. They wave back.

Erin sniffles. “It’s her first day of kindergarten! This is a big deal! Am I crazy for being emotional?”

“Naaah.” Holtz slips her arm around Erin’s waist and kisses her cheek. “You’re not crazy. You’re just a mom.”

There are a few tears gathering in her own eyes. She attempts to subtly wipe them away without Erin noticing.

“ _I saw that_! Holtz, you’re crying too!”

“Am not,” Holtz replies defiantly, “It’s allergies.”

Erin rolls her eyes and hip-checks her. “Suuuure it is.”

“Leave me alone,” Holtz whines.

“Not a chance. I’m never going to let this go.”

“I hate you.”

***

“I want that one.” Julia points to a shiny, firetruck-red bicycle hanging suspended from the ceiling.

“Excellent choice. I would’ve picked that one too.” Holtz beams. She wanders off to find an employee to help them get it down. When she gets back, she eyes the item in Erin’s hands and looks up with a frown. “You’re not serious, are you?”

Erin balks. “What? Of course I am.”

Holtz comes over and plucks the training wheels from her hands. “Absolutely not. She doesn’t need them.”

“What do you mean? Of course she does. She’s never been on a bike. She’ll fall.” Erin starts panicking just thinking about it.

“She might, yeah. And?”

“She’ll…she’ll get hurt!”

Holtz shakes her head. “Not badly. Falling is a part of life, Erin. It teaches you to bounce back up. Don’t you want our daughter to be resilient?”

“I want her to be _safe_.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Erin replies automatically.

Holtz smiles. “Then she _will_ be safe. But she doesn’t need the training wheels. Okay?”

Erin can’t help herself. She starts laughing. “This is such a metaphor for our different approaches to parenting.”

“You’re right; it is.” Holtz cackles.

Erin takes the training wheels from her and puts them back on the shelf. “If she breaks a leg and never wants to get back on the bike, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

They buy the bike and get it home, and take it out to the alley behind their house. Julia, in her neon green helmet, is bouncing with excitement. Holtz holds the bike steady while she climbs on.

“Okay, kiddo. Put your feet on the pedals—there ya go—and once we get moving you’re gonna wanna, like…spin them around.”

Erin watches on with trepidation. “Holtz, do _you_ even know how to ride a bike?”

Holtz moves her head to wink at her. “Of course. Self-taught.”

Erin just shakes her head.

Holtz turns her attention back to Julia. She comes around the bike, still holding it upright, and crouches in front of Julia with a solemn expression on her face for once. “I’m going to hold onto the bike while you get used to pedalling, but then I’m going to let go, and you’re going to keep pedalling, okay? Now—this is important—you might fall. In fact, I’d be surprised if you didn’t. But here’s the thing…falling is okay. Falling means you’re trying. I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you, but only if you trust me and _trust yourself_. You need to believe that you can do it. If you believe you can do it, you’ll be able to do it. Maybe not at first—because everything in life takes practice—but eventually, you’ll be able to do it. So what do you say? Are you ready to kick some butt?”

Julia’s been listening to all of this with an equally solemn expression on her face. She nods.

“Jeeze, Holtz,” Erin says quietly, “that was a lot of life lessons for a five-year-old.”

“She’s smart.” Holtz smiles and raps her knuckles on Julia’s helmet. “Okay, kid. Let’s do this.”

Her and Julia do two slow laps back and forth as Julia masters the coordination involved in pedalling. The next time past, Holtz starts jogging with her hand on the seat of the bike, and a minute later she lets go and shouts to keep pedalling.

Julia does. She pedals fast with a determined look on her face, and she gets a good 30 feet before she loses balance and goes crashing to the pavement.

They sprint towards her. Erin’s heart is in her throat. “Julia!”

“I’m okay,” the little girl replies.

Holtz moves the bike off of her. Erin crouches and examines the scrape on her knee. Not very deep, but already bleeding, and there’s dirt and bits of rock sticking to it. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Julia flexes and stretches her limbs. “No.”

“You did great, kiddo,” Holtz says, “That was a spectacular fall. I’m proud of you.”

“Can I try again?”

Holtz beams. “You sure can! Although—” She shoots a glance at Erin’s shaking frame— “Maybe we should go inside and get that cool scrape all cleaned up first. That sound good?”

Julia sighs like she’s disappointed. “Yeah, okay.”

They help her to her feet, and Holtz smiles reassuringly at Erin. They get her inside and disinfect the cut (which Julia insists hurts more than the actual fall did) and soon she’s curled up on the couch with Essie watching cartoons. Holtz comes to stand behind Erin as she packs up the first-aid kit, and combs her fingers through Erin’s hair.

“You okay?” she asks.

“If I knew parenting was going to be this terrifying, I never would’ve done it.”

Holtz leans her chin onto the top of Erin’s head. “Really?”

Erin looks over at their daughter and watches her for a few moments. She sighs. “No. I still would’ve.”

Holtz smiles. “Yeah. Me too.”

***

Julia has been in the first grade for three days when she comes home in tears. Erin’s mind jumps to the worst place, but after some gentle coaxing, they get it out of her that some kid said it was weird that she has two moms and no dad. Erin doesn’t really know what to say to that, but Holtz does, and she manages to talk Julia down and explain to her that not everyone will understand her family, but that doesn’t mean that it’s any less normal than the other children’s.

Erin forgets sometimes that not everyone in the world approves of her marriage. It’s ironic, given the drama with her parents before her dad came around, but it’s true. She forgets that she’s in a same-sex marriage most days. It’s not like she’s not well aware that Holtz is a woman, and she’s called herself bisexual for ages, long before she even knew her, but being with Holtz just feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world. It’s easy to forget that some people find it extremely _un_ natural. Hell, her marriage wasn’t even _legal_ a few decades ago. That thought kind of blows her mind.

Holtz is used to it, though. She doesn’t even seem thrown—just a little angry, but she hides that well in front of Julia. When she’s done talking with her, Julia is much happier and prepared to go back into school the next day.

It’s a few weeks later when she comes home and asks them, a little tentatively, if the Ghostbusters could come in for her first show-and-tell.

“I want them to see how awesome you are,” she says, wringing her hands.

Holtz lights up. When they ask Abby and Patty, they’re on board as well. They speak to Julia’s teacher to make sure it’s okay, and she gets so excited and says they can come in for as long as they want and talk to the kids about science and ghostbusting.

That morning they suit up and drive over to Julia’s school. Abby makes a big show of knocking on the door and poking her head in to ask, “Has anyone seen a ghost?”

They all sit in pint-sized plastic chairs up at the front of the room and Julia excitedly introduces them.

“This is my Auntie Patty, and my mom, and my other mom, and my Auntie Abby! They’re the real Ghostbusters!”

They all smile and wave. They talk for a little about how a day in the life of a Ghostbuster, and they show off some of their tech while Holtz explains it all. Then they let the kids ask questions.

“Are ghosts scary?”

“Has a ghost ever escaped?”

“How do ghosts use the bathroom?” (That one turned the entire class into a giggling mess)

They take turns answering the questions, until the teacher finally interrupts to say that they should let the Ghostbusters go now. The entire class ‘awww’s.

“We need to be ready in case someone calls us about a ghost,” says Patty.

“Yeah, and we left our goofy receptionist in charge. There could be a ghost right now that needs bustin’, and we wouldn’t know,” Abby says. The kids laugh.

On their way out the door, Holtz stops by Julia’s desk to ruffle her hair. “See ya later, kidderoo.”

Julia turns pink. “Hooozeyyyy.”

“It’s my job to embarrass you. Get used to it. Bye kids!” Holtz salutes the class and strolls over to where Erin’s holding the door open for her and shaking her head.

Nobody has anything bad to say about Julia’s family after that.

***

They get a call from Julia’s school one day while they’re at work. Holtz is tinkering on a new prototype and Erin is bent over at her desk madly scribbling out numbers to the ground-breaking theory she’s working on, and suddenly her phone is vibrating under a stack of papers. She fishes it out, sees that it’s an unknown number, and answers it.

“Is this Mrs. Gilbert-Holtzmann?” the female voice on the other end asks.

She knows immediately that it’s something to do with Julia. “Yes,” she says, not bothering to correct the woman.

“This is the school nurse. I have Julia here. She’s got a bad fever and she’s complaining of stomach pain. Are you available to come pick her up?”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” Erin says, and hangs up, which is probably a little rude, but she doesn’t care. “Holtz,” she shouts over the music playing, “Julia’s sick. That was the nurse.”

Holtz turns down the music and sets her screwdriver down. “Do you want me to go get her by myself so you can stay here and work? You look really busy.”

Erin is already standing. “No, I need to go. I’ll worry too much. You can stay here, though.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you when I get her home.”

Erin all but runs down the stairs. When she gets to the school, she finds Julia curled up on a cot in the nurse’s office, as pale as a ghost. Or something less ironic.

“Oh, sweetie.” She presses her hand to Julia’s forehead, which is scalding hot, even with the cool paper towel the nurse has draped over it.

“Her teacher noticed something was wrong when she wasn’t eating her lunch. It took a little bit of prodding, but she finally admitted to her stomach hurting,” the nurse says.

“I don’t wanna go home,” Julia whimpers, “I wanna stay at school.”

“No, honey, you’re sick. You need to come home. You don’t want to get the other kids sick, do you?” Erin says gently, smoothing sweaty hair away from her forehead.

Julia just moans.

Erin gets her home and into bed, then gives her some medicine for her fever. She sits by her bed holding a damp cloth to her forehead and calls the firehouse.

“Hello, Ghostbusters!” Kevin’s cheerful voice answers.

“Hey Kev, it’s Erin. Can you put Holtz on the phone, please?”

“Sure thing, boss!”

He shouts Holtz’ name, and Erin has to hold the phone away from her ear.

“Hey, love. How is she?” The sound of Holtz’ voice does little to curb Erin’s rising panic.

“Her temperature is _really_ high, and her stomach is hurting. I’m thinking it’s just a flu, but—”

She’s cut off by Julia crying sharply, then throwing off the covers and sprinting—a little shakily—out of the room.

“Julia!” she shouts after her. “Shoot—Holtz? Come home. Now. I need you.”

She tosses the phone onto the bed and runs.

***

“Honey? You need to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when she’s okay.”

The pair are standing in the too-bright hallway of a hospital. On the other side of the closed door in front of them, Julia is fast asleep in her hospital bed.

She has C. difficile. A bacterial infection. It’s rare in children, but here she is. They took her to a doctor as soon as they noticed the blood in her diarrhea, and she was quickly diagnosed. The doctor didn’t seem to think it was a very severe case, but her inability to take in any nutrients resulted in rapid weight loss—terrifyingly rapid—forcing them to bring her to the hospital. She’s been here two days, and they’ve got a cocktail of nutrients dripping into her via an IV, and she’s already starting to look less like a skeleton.

It’s still terrifying, though.

“She’s going to be okay. She won’t notice if you go home tonight to sleep. You’ve slept what, an hour in the past 48 hours?”

Holtz heaves a sob. “I can’t. I need to be here.”

Erin wraps her arms around her wife’s shaking frame. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Please? For me? I’ll be here. I’ll call you if anything happens or changes.”

Holtz slumps against her chest. Erin never thought she’d see the day when she was the calm one, but Holtz has been a wreck ever since Julia got sick. Erin was too, before Julia was admitted to the hospital. She’s less anxious now that there’s a team of medical professionals watching over and taking care of Julia, and now that she’s getting nutrients and has stopped wasting away.

Holtz is still just as much of a mess, and the situation isn’t being helped by her refusal to sleep longer than a few minutes every couple hours.

“I’m just really scared,” she says into Erin’s chest.

“I know, Holtz. I know. She’s going to be okay, though. Can you go home and sleep? Abby’s waiting down the hall to take you home. Will you go with her?”

There’s a long pause, and then Holtz nods. She leaves with Abby, and Erin lets herself into Julia’s room. She slumps into a chair and watches her daughter’s chest heaving up and down until she too drifts off to sleep.

Julia is allowed to leave the hospital a few days later. She’s given medicine to fight the infection, and because it’s not common in children, there’s no liquid form of it. The pharmacy has to grind up the pills and hydrate them into an awful liquid. The first time Julia takes some, she throws up all over the kitchen floor a minute later. Holtz dips her pinky into the liquid and tries a taste to see what it’s like, and she nearly throws up too at how foul it is.

They get her chocolate puddings to chase the medication with. It’s enough to keep it down. She’s still miserable, but she puts on a brave face.

By the time she’s recovered, she’s missed several weeks of school, which concerns her more than being sick did. It only takes her two days to catch up. They’re both just relieved to see her back to her normal self.

Holtz says the entire experience took ten years off her life, and Erin is inclined to agree.

***

Julia is brilliant. So brilliant. It’s been clear since she was a baby, but it’s becoming even more obvious as she gets into school. She’s leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of her peers.

That’s what happens when you’ve got two geniuses for parents. Nature _and_ nurture…she’s got the best of both worlds, and it shows.

She gets to skip the second grade, which excites her, but she also admits that it makes her sad to have one less year of school to attend. They’re a little worried about her entering the third grade, not because they think she can’t handle it, but because they’re concerned about the social ramifications. Neither of them were exactly social butterflies in their youth—more like social _pariahs_ —and all they want is for her to have friends.

It turns out they had nothing to worry about, because despite the already-apparent anxiety that Julia has inherited from Erin (“I knew I was going to screw her up! I have terrible genes! Who let me be a mother?”), she seems to have adopted Holtz’ ‘fake it til you make it’ confidence.

She makes tons of friends. Instantly. Before the word even travels that her parents are Ghostbusters. She just has a sort of magnetism to her, much like Holtz, Erin thinks. She loves school, which could set her apart as a nerd, but she’s also _funny_ , really funny, and the other kids are drawn to her. She has a playdate with a different kid from her class every other day.

They’re so proud of her. So, so proud.

***

“Holtz, you can’t do the whole project for her.”

“I’m not!”

It’s Julia’s first science fair, and all three of them are ecstatic. They’ve been brainstorming ideas, and Holtz has been excitedly planning out the experiment details for each new suggestion.

Julia stares down at the list in front of her. “I don’t like any of these.”

“We can keep brainstorming, hon,” Erin says, pulling the pad of paper towards her.

“One time, on a show, these kids made a little volcano that really erupted. Could I do that?”

Holtz’ face contorts. “A baking soda volcano? Uninspired. But…if you’re interested in explosions, let’s do it right.” She claps her hands together, eyes wide with glee, and her face stretches into a manic grin.

The phrase ‘her smile could light up a room’ has never been more appropriate, Erin thinks.

Needless to say, Julia is disqualified from the competition.

“She was robbed,” Holtz says bitterly.

***

“Auntie Abby, are you good at math?”

Julia is seated at one of the desks on the first floor of the firehouse, doing her homework. Erin and Holtz are upstairs working. Patty’s in the corner reading.

Abby comes to stand behind her. “I’m pretty good. Not as good as your mom, though.”

“She’s busy working. I don’t wanna bug her. Can you help me?”

“Sure, sweetie. What do you need help with?”

“Can you check my work and make sure I did it the way Miss Donald wants? Last time I did it differently, and I got all the right answers, but she said I didn’t do it right.”

Abby tsks at the way the school system squashes any sort of different approach to learning, especially in math. She flips through Julia’s work.

She’s done it all right, of course. And she’s worked all the way to the back of her workbook.

***

The principal says she can skip the fourth grade as well, but they’re worried that the loss of her friends would be too much. They decide to keep her with her peers, but they bring in a few local college students to teach her extra material, just to keep her busy. She loves learning. She can’t seem to get enough of it.

They’ve already taught her a lot about their respective fields, and she knows exponentially more about the paranormal than most eight-year-olds. Even Patty gives her history lessons, which Julia finds fascinating, and Patty’s so excited that it becomes a weekly thing.

Julia continues to excel in school for the rest of elementary school, both academically and socially. Her progress reports spill over with praise. She joins soccer and ballet. Then karate.

She starts middle school. She keeps up with her extracurricular activities, and starts spending more and more time at the firehouse too, helping them out. She gravitates the most towards Holtz’ inventions—which admittedly are the coolest things in the building, although Erin’s equations fascinate her too—and as she gets older, Holtz starts explaining how the tech works in more detail. She soaks up every bit of information. She begs and pleads for them to let her come on a ghost call, but Erin refuses.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“You guys do it!”

“Yeah, and our expertise is all that prevents us from dying on the job,” Erin says, “You’re not going a call. Not until you’re 18.”

“That’s not faaaair,” Julia whines.

They have the same argument again. And again. And again.

“She sure is persistent,” Holtz muses, “I wonder if we—”

“ _NO, HOLTZ_.”

 

***

Erin wakes up to knocking on their bedroom door. A few seconds pass while she rubs the sleep from her eyes and blinks into the sunlight pouring through the window. The door opens a crack and Julia pokes her head in.

“Are you awake?”

Erin whispers, “I am. I don’t know if—”

“I’m awake,” Holtz says at a normal conversational volume. She’s koala-bearing to her side, one leg draped over Erin’s legs. She nuzzles her face into Erin’s neck.

“Good.” Julia pushes open the door the rest of the way to reveal a tray full of food. “Happy Mother’s Day!”

“Oh, sweetie, thank you!” Erin tries to sit up in bed, but Holtz squeezes tighter. “Holtz…I need to…”

There’s the unmistakable feeling of a wet tongue touching the inside of her ear. She jolts away from Holtz, her hand flying to the side of her head.

“Seriously? Was that necessary?”

Holtz releases her and does a full roll so she’s on her side of the bed, facing Erin. She winks. “Just making sure you know I love you.”

“Are you guys done being weirdos,” Julia says, “because this is getting cold.”

“I’m _never_ done being a weirdo.” Holtz grins.

Julia and Erin roll their eyes simultaneously. Julia comes into the room and hands the tray to Erin, then climbs over her in a tangle of awkward pre-teen limbs to flop down on the bed between them.

“I didn’t know you could make omelettes,” Erin says as she picks up her fork.

“It’s an omelette, Mom. Not particle physics.”

Erin smiles at that. She takes a bite of the eggs. “It’s delicious, honey. Thank you.” She grabs the mug of coffee off the tray and sips at it. “And you even got my coffee right! What have I done to deserve such a wonderful daughter?”

Holtz crawls over to nab a chunk of toast from Erin’s plate. “Is there coffee for me too?”

Julia swats her hand away. “Go away. It’s not your holiday.”

“Oooouch, that hurts!”

Julia sticks her tongue out. “You don’t get two. That wouldn’t be fair.”

Holtz co-opted Father’s Day ages ago and aptly renamed it ‘Hozey Day.’ Every year she spends the entire day with Julia and it’s a tradition for it to be No Mom Allowed. Erin used to wonder what they got up to on Hozey Day, but after the first few years she decided it’s better off that she doesn’t know.

“Fiiiine,” Holtz says in a faux-forlorn drawl, “I’ll go get my own coffee.”

When she gets back a few minutes later, sipping out of the #1 Dad mug that she’s used every morning for the past 12 years, Julia leaps out of the bed.

“Should I give her the present?”

Holtz leans in the doorframe. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Julia runs out of the room. Erin studies Holtz’ conspiratorial grin and can’t help but feel a little scared.

Julia returns with a nondescript blue gift bag and passes it to Erin in exchange for the tray with Erin’s dishes. “You didn’t have to get me anything, sweetie.”

“I didn’t _get_ you anything. Open it!” Julia says, excitement bubbling in her voice.

Erin pulls out a few wads of tissue paper and lifts out—a pair of brown slippers? “Oh!” she says, in her fake-cheerful I Must Love Everything My Daughter Gets Me voice, “How nice!”

Julia takes one of them. “Mooom. You don’t even know what they do.”

Erin’s eyes widen. Her gaze shoots to Holtz, who’s looking more and more amused by the second. Julia flips a tiny switch at the back of the slipper that Erin didn’t notice before, and passes it back. Erin holds it for a few seconds, wondering what she’s missing, and then she feels it. The slipper is warming up.

“I built heaters into the soles,” Julia says proudly, “because you’re always complaining about your feet being cold.”

Erin feels herself getting choked up. “Oh, honey. That’s so thoughtful! And you built these all by yourself?”

“Well…”

“She did,” Holtz says from the doorway, “I was only there for guidance and supervision.”

“It only exploded once,” Julia smiles widely.

Erin shakes her head. “You could’ve omitted that part. But I’m very impressed. Thank you, sweetie. I love you.”

“You’re welcome. I love you too, or whatever.” Julia tries to sound embarrassed, because she needs to at least pretend that she’s too cool to admit she loves her parents, but her smile betrays her.

Erin pulls her down into a side hug. Her heart is so full.

“You’re the best mom ever,” Julia says into her chest.

***

 “Weren’t we just dropping her off for her first day of kindergarten?” Erin says, her voice wavering as she snaps photos of Julia standing in their living room on the morning of her first day of high school.

“Mom. Really?” Julia sighs. “I’m gonna be late. Is this necessary?”

Holtz glares at her. “Let your mother have her moment.”

“If I’m late on my first day, it’s all your fault.”

“I’m done, I’m done,” Erin says. She fiddles with her phone. “Oh, that’s a good one. I’m sending that to Abby and Patty.”

“I’m leaving,” Julia warns, picking her backpack up off the floor and opening the door.

“Not without a hug, you’re not.” Holtz launches herself at Julia and squeezes her tightly.

“You’re messing up my hair!”

“Well sooOOOrry,” Holtz says sarcastically.

Erin joins them in a group hug. “We just love you too much.”

“Oh my God. I really, really need to leave.” Julia wiggles her way out of their grasps and to the door. “Bye! I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” they chorus together.

The door shuts. Erin immediately bursts into tears. “How did she get so old? Wasn’t she just a baby?”

“She was a lot less sassy when she was a baby.”

“She really was, wasn’t she?”

***

Julia _loves_ high school. She loves the academics, and the social life, and the opportunities. She joins the robotics club, the chess club, and the dance team. She becomes part of the yearbook committee, and discovers she has a gift for photography. She quickly gets a reputation around the school. Everyone adores her. She seems to know and be friends with everyone—from the students in her AP classes to the jocks on the football team. She’s also got a tight-knit group of best friends who she’s known since elementary school, and they made it through the drama of middle school without breaking up, which is a good sign. She’s been asked out on countless dates from admirers, and she goes on most of them. She hasn’t been in any sort of relationship, though, because she says she doesn’t have the time, but she could be in one if she wanted.

She’s flourishing, and they couldn’t be happier.

***

It’s January when they get the call. Erin sees that it’s Julia’s school phoning, and even though it’s been years, she has a flashback to the time Julia got sick.

“Hello?” She listens to what the voice on the other end says. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll be right there.”

She hangs up.

“Who was that?” Holtz says from across the room.

“Julia’s principal. You’re not going to believe this…”

***

“You punched a kid in the face?” Erin says, before she’s even taken a seat in the principal’s cramped office.

Julia slouches down in her seat. “I was provoked.”

“That’s no excuse,” Erin says, at the same time that Holtz says, “Fair enough.”

The principal sighs in frustration. “Why don’t you explain what happened?”

Julia fiddles with her hands. Erin can already see a bruise forming across her knuckles. “There was this guy. He said something rude. About you. So I punched him.”

Holtz looks pensive. “What did he say?”

“He asked if it was true if I had lesbian moms, and if it was, if he could come over and watch you guys make out,” Julia says quietly.

Fury clouds Holtz’ face. “I’m glad you punched him.”

“ _Holtz_. What my wife meant to say, Mr. Matthews, is that we don’t approve of Julia’s actions, but…well, it _was_ pretty clear that she was provoked, like she said.”

The principal frowns. “Are you suggesting that this act of violence was warranted? We have a zero-tolerance policy against physical violence. I don’t care what was said leading up to the incident: she’s still in the wrong.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your policy on homophobia? Let me guess, you tend to let that slide.” Holtz shoots daggers out of her eyes.

Erin is done being nice, too. “Julia absolutely needs to be held accountable for her actions, but so does that boy. He was harassing my daughter, and if she’s going to be suspended then he should be too.”

Mr. Matthew’s face is going red. “There’s no evidence that he said any of those things, so I can’t discipline him. The eyewitnesses can only confirm that Julia hit him. That’s my final stance on the matter. Please escort your daughter from the premises now, before I add on more time to her suspension.”

Holtz stands with a huff. Erin glares at him. They exit the room, and as soon as they’re in the hallway, Erin hugs Julia.

“I hope you got in a good hit.”

“I think I broke his nose.”

Holtz throws an arm around her shoulder. “Atta girl.”

***

It’s Julia’s sophomore year, and she’s going to her first real party. She’s been asked before, many times, but this is the first time she’s relented.

“This is so exciting,” Holtz says from where she’s draped across Julia’s bed. “I’ve never been invited to a party. Have you ever been invited to a party, love?”

“Never,” Erin says. She pulls a shirt from Julia’s closet and holds it in the air. “What about this one?”

Julia makes a face. “No. That’ll make me look desperate.”

“Oh. We don’t want that.” Erin puts the shirt back.

“Hey, do you want me to buy you booze? Let me buy you booze,” Holtz says.

“Holtz! What the heck?”

“Seriously?” Julia asks.

“Seriously,” Holtz says to Julia. Then, to Erin, “She’s probably going to drink regardless. Would you rather she drink safe alcohol that we purchase for her ahead of time, or sketchy alcohol from Creepy McRando at the party?”

“There’s not going to be any Creepy McRandos at the party,” Julia says with a roll of her eyes, “but I’d still rather you buy me some if that’s a serious offer.”

Erin’s mouth hangs open. “You don’t think that’s weird? Your parents buying your alcohol for you?”

Julia shrugs. “No. It just means you’re cool parents. Well…” She looks meaningfully at Erin.

“Hey, I’m cool,” Erin protests.

“Sure you are,” Holtz says with a wink.

Julia turns to her. “So you’ll do it? Really?”

“Of course. As long as you don’t share it with anyone—I’m fine buying _you_ alcohol, but I’m not about to give it to your friends without their parents knowing—and you call us to come pick you up afterwards.”

“Done. Thank you! You’re the best.”

“I know.”

“So what does that make me?” Erin pouts.

Julia considers that. “Also the best. Just…the less-cool best.”

“Hey!”

Holtz smirks. “Be nice to your mother. Even though we all know the truth.”

“I’m cool!”

“Suuuure,” they reply simultaneously.

***

“Can I talk to you guys?” Julia stands at the doorway to their bedroom, looking nervous.

It’s getting late and they’re already winding down for bed. Erin puts down her book in concern and takes off her reading glasses. Holtz sets down the remote control she’s tinkering with onto the end table and moves her own yellow-lensed reading glasses to perch on the top of her head with a frown.

“Of course, honey. What’s wrong?” Erin asks, her mind going to the worst case scenario. Is she pregnant? She almost frowns at herself, wondering why that’s the first thing that jumped into her head. Maybe it’s just because she knows what having an unplanned pregnancy is like. Yes, it ended up changing her life in the best way, and now she can’t imagine her life without Julia, but if she’d had a choice, it’s not how she would’ve wanted to enter motherhood. The day she found out she was pregnant was one of the worst days of her life, and for the entire pregnancy she felt overwhelmingly unprepared and terrified because she couldn’t shake the knowledge that this had been forced upon her. And she was in her _thirties_. She couldn’t imagine—doesn’t _want_ to imagine—how it would feel as a 16-year-old.

While Erin has been anxiously musing, Julia has come and taken a seat cross-legged at the end of their bed. “Nothing’s wrong,” she says, and Erin relaxes. “There’s just something I want to talk to you about. I don’t really know how to start…”

Holtz pulls her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them, gazing at her intently. “I think I know what this is about. Honey…it’s okay with us if you’re straight. We’ll love you just the same.”

“Oh my God.”

Holtz grins.

“That’s not…Jesus. I mean, thanks? I’m, like, 95% straight, so…good to know?”

Holtz grins wider. “What about the other 5%?”

Julia sighs wistfully and crawls forward onto her stomach between them, propping herself up with her elbows. “Girls are pretty.”

“ _Yeah_ they are.”

Julia hums. “Maybe it’s more like 80-20.”

Holtz reaches out to fist-bump her. Julia snorts and reciprocates.

“I feel like we’re getting distracted here,” Erin says, “What did you come in here to talk to us about?”

“Oh, right.” She hesitates. “I’ve been thinking, lately. What’s going to happen to the Ghostbusters when you guys retire?”

Erin laughs at the absurdity of the question, especially after her mind was going to such bad places. “We’re not _that_ old.”

“Well, she is. I’m not.” Holtz winks. Erin elbows her.

“I know, I know. But do you really see yourself going out on calls at 65?”

“Yes,” Holtz says immediately.

Erin rolls her eyes, not doubting Holtz’ sincerity. “No. Obviously not. We’re already getting too old for it. It’s a good thing calls are so few and far between nowadays. Did you hear that Abby _actually_ threw her back out the other day?”

“Yeah, you already told me. So what’s going to happen, then? When you can’t go on calls anymore? Who’s going to keep the city’s ghost population in check?” Julia presses.

“The city was handling itself before us, and it will handle itself after us,” Holtz says. She has a good point. The rest of the country—and world—continues to do just fine as well, although there have been reports of teams of researchers across the world trying to replicate some of their technology to no avail.

Julia sits up. “But what if they didn’t have to handle themselves? What if someone kept the Ghostbusters going?”

Holtz snorts. “I’d like to see them try. We’re all highly skilled and highly trained. Nobody could replace us. And, no offense to the rest of the team, but we’re nothing without me and my expertise, and there’s only one me.”

“I’m not even going to argue that,” Erin says, “It’s true. Could you imagine anyone else making your tech? Sure, it could be done, but _should_ it be done by anyone but you?”

“Definitely not. I wouldn’t trust anyone enough to pass the blowtorch to them, so to speak.”

Julia interrupts their banter with a quiet: “Would you trust me?”

They fall silent. “What?” Erin says, convinced she must’ve heard her wrong.

“Would you trust me? To take over the business?”

Erin splutters nonsensical noises. Julia? Take over the Ghostbusters? Erin pictures her in a jumpsuit, wrangling a spectre with a proton stream, and her heart seizes. She could get hurt so easily. She could _die_. Erin has come close to death many, many times in the past two decades. She’s had countless injuries—both minor and serious. It’s a _dangerous_ job. The fact that she carries around a nuclear reactor on her back is among the least of her worries. She has to go in to work every day and watch the love of her life put herself in the way of danger. Every single day Holtz risks her life. Every single day she could be taken away from Erin.

Julia can never be in that position. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

_Neither did you, when the Ghostbusters were formed_ , a little voice in the back of her head says.

She shakes the thought away. No. She won’t let Julia do this. She can’t.

Holtz, on the other hand, looks contemplative—if not slightly excited. “I might trust you. With the proper training.”

“You’ve never even come in contact with a ghost!” Erin blurts, because she’s panicking and doesn’t know how to articulate her fears into words.

Julia juts her lip out. “Only because you said I wasn’t allowed to come on a call until I’m 18.”

“Which I stand by,” Erin says, trying to make her voice firm instead of letting the panic bleed through, “It’s dangerous.”

“Okay, fine. What about once I’m 18? Are you going to say no then, too?”

Erin presses her lips together. “Then you’ll be an adult, and if you want to risk your life, I won’t be able to stop you. But why would you, Jules?” Her voice breaks.

“Come on. You guys love it. You have the coolest job ever. I want what you have.”

Holtz must be able to sense that Erin’s panicking internally, because she backs down. “There are a lot of cool jobs out there,” she tries, and it’s a weak attempt. You can practically see the gears turning in her head even though she’s trying to stop them.

Julia turns to her. “You’ve always said that I’d be a brilliant engineer. What if I was? What if I study engineering in college? I’m already leaning towards it anyway. Would you pass the proverbial blowtorch to me then?”

“You _would_ be a brilliant engineer. You’ll be brilliant at anything you choose to do, frankly. But that’s not…you can’t…” Holtz is grasping at straws. She shoots a glance at Erin, and her eyes are filled with a wordless apology.

Erin is determined to dissuade Julia. Or at least challenge her. “Okay. Say you did become an engineer, and we taught you how to build and fix our tech—” she starts.

“I already know more about how the tech works than 99.9% of the planet. I’d just need to learn some of the more practical skills and theory,” Julia interjects.

“—then what? You can’t single-handedly run the Ghostbusters. Holtz may be the most important member of our team, but she certainly couldn’t run the whole show herself.”

“Weellll…”

“Shush. You couldn’t.” Erin glares. Now is not the time.

“I could find people. Friends. Like you did.”

They’re both silent.

“Abby’s and Patty’s and Erin’s don’t grow on trees,” Holtz says. “They’re special.”

“You don’t think I know that? I know that. But there are a lot of really special people in the world. I could find some.”

Erin sighs. This is making her heart hurt too much. She’s all for her daughter finding the types of friends that she’s found, but not in these circumstances. “I don’t want to talk about this any more. You can go to college and get a degree in something that you love—that you want to do—and we can discuss this a different time. For now, we’re not going anywhere.”

Julia’s face falls at the conversation being over, but she nods. “Okay.”

***

“She looks so beautiful. I’m going to cry.”

“Oh how the tables have turned,” Erin all but shouts.

“Shut up,” Holtz says.

“Twirl for us, babygirl,” Patty says.

Julia blushes and does a slow twirl, showing off the dark red, floor length dress. Her auburn hair is twisted up into an elegant chignon. She fiddles nervously with the thin black tie hanging loosely around her neck.

“I still feel like this looks stupid.”

“It looks _badass_ ,” Holtz says.

“I’d normally say don’t trust her fashion sense, but she’s right,” Abby says, “It’s cool as hell. Unique, but cool.”

Erin snaps another hundred photos. “You’re so beautiful. This is such a big moment.”

“It’s prom, Mom. Not my wedding.”

Holtz clutches her chest. “Don’t even say stuff like that. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

Julia rolls her eyes.

“We need to get going,” Erin says.

They drive to meet up with the group of friends she’s going with, and that results in another round of picture taking. Finally, their limo rolls up and they all pile into it. Erin and Holtz stand with some of the other parents and watch it drive away.

“They grow up so fast, don’t they?” a teary-eyed mom says.

Erin wraps her arm around Holtz. “They really do.”

***

“Julia Gilbert-Holtzmann!”

Erin, Holtz, Patty, Abby, Kevin, and William start hollering and cheering. Holtz does a loud wolf-whistle.

They can just make out Julia’s slightly-embarrassed expression as she crosses the stage and collects her diploma. She beams out into the audience and, on a dare from Holtz, does a two-fingered salute. She returns to her seat.

Erin is overcome with emotion, suddenly, looking up at the woman her daughter has become. She was accepted into MIT’s nuclear engineering program with hefty scholarships, so she’ll be heading there in the fall. They haven’t revisited the conversation about her being trained to take over the Ghostbusters, but Erin has a feeling that her mind has been made up. Stubbornness runs in the family. Some might call it ‘determination.’ She wants this—Erin can tell that she wants this—she doesn’t feel obligated or feel like they’re holding her back. It still terrifies her that her daughter is going to be risking her life in the same way that they do, but she knows that Julia will be good at ghostbusting. She’s already so interested in the paranormal, and Erin doesn’t doubt that her research will far exceed what they’ve been able to accomplish (even though yeah, she’ll forever be one of the scientists who proved the existence of ghosts). She knows—she just _knows_ —that Julia will do great things. She’ll carry on their legacy, whether they want her to or not.

She’s already so proud. She has the best daughter in the universe. She doesn’t deserve her.

Erin looks down the row at the rest of her family. Abby and Patty, the best friends she could ask for. Kevin, the best receptionist…it may have taken him 17 years, but he’s finally got the hang of it. Her father, the best grandpa to her daughter.

And Holtz.

The best wife in the world. The woman who continues to change her life every day. The woman who’s seen her at her worst, and stuck around anyway. The woman who never stops making her laugh, who’s been by her side through the ups and downs of life, who knows how to calm her down when she’s anxious, who knows the best ways to get under her skin. The love of her life, who she gets to spend the rest of her life beside: watching her smile and dance and create mind-blowing inventions like it’s nothing, refusing to let her age, or anything really, hinder her from living her life as exuberantly and youthfully as possible. Erin loves every inch of her zany, goofy, salty-snack-loving, explosion-causing, tender, happy-go-lucky, joy-bringing wife.

Holtz must feel her adoring gaze, because she turns her head to look at Erin with an equally as adoring expression. She smiles a goofy, lopsided smile. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Erin whispers.

“We did it, Gilbert. We managed to get our girl all the way to her graduation without screwing her up. I think that means we’re good parents.”

Erin smiles, her eyes watery. “We did it,” she repeats.

“Our job is far from over, but this feels good.”

“Yeah.” Erin pulls her in for a long, sweet kiss. She pulls away. “It does feel good. Hey, Holtz?”

“Mmm?”

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you too. So much.”

Erin presses one more kiss to Holtz’ lips, then leans her head down onto her shoulder. She links their hands together and squeezes. She feels completely, totally, utterly content.

She has the best life, she really does.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!  
> I just want to take a moment to thank you guys for coming on this 30,000 word journey with me, from the first line of What Erin Expected all the way to this. When I wrote the first part to this series, I never intended to write more, but your support for it led me to write the sequel and your further support of that drove me to write this final installment.  
> Writing this fic felt a lot like raising a child. By the end of this fic, I was just as emotional about saying goodbye to these versions of Holtz and Erin as they were about Julia being all grown up. But I also feel at peace with them. I'm confident that this is going to be the last installment of this series.  
> Btw, come follow me on Tumblr at holtzmannerin!  
> One final thing, before these notes turn into a novel in themselves: I have ulterior motives for posting this on my birthday. I've written 60,000 words of Holtzbert for you guys, and I feel like I deserve some birthday love. So. Please make my birthday great and leave me kudos and comments (especially comments) if you liked this. It will make me endlessly happy.  
> Okay. Farewell. Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and supporting me. I love you guys so much <3


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